


We Ain't In Love

by rachelarcher



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6356704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelarcher/pseuds/rachelarcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is still dealing with the loss of Beth. And a lie he told Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Ain't In Love

Those assholes had taken his bike, and his crossbow, his fairly new one that Rick had just brought him, at least he had the old broken down one to return to. He made his way back to the brush pile and began cleaning the truck off. A smug look on his face. Then he heard it, a low groaning. He stiffened, he was moving through the woods before he could stop himself. A woman, maybe twenty was tied to a tree, he didn’t know how he missed her, but somehow he deduced that in the day that had happened, she must have been left by the men who had been chasing after the two idiots who took his stuff. She was unconscious and her one shoulder looked wrong like it was dislocated. Her hands and ankles were bound. He realized, anger boiling in his veins, they had wanted her to be eaten.  
He grunted, hauling the lithe form over his shoulder after cutting her from the tree, and heading back towards the truck. He pulled the walker out he had destroyed earlier, then slid her into the seat, pushing her almost into the floorboard, he climbed in and turned the engine over, smiling to himself as it rumbled to life. Before he threw the truck into reverse he looked down at her, her hair long, choppy and blackish-brown, lightened no doubt by the sun, her skin had a nice red undertone, and looking at her cheeks he came to the conclusion with cheekbones like she had, she was more than likely some sort of native American’s descendant.  
Her simple dress was plastered to her in the heat of the Virginia summer, she was barefoot, and her ankles showed the signs of being restrained multiple times. He wondered who in the world she was, and why those men discarded her like she was rotten meat. He pulled the truck to the main road and headed back towards town.  
She opened her eyes, carefully, and nearly screamed when she saw him. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya, none.” He grumbled out, she quieted, looking him over, then wiggled herself into the seat. He waited, once he stopped the truck for Abraham and Sasha to join them. He nearly choked on a laugh when he saw what Abraham was wearing. Regardless, he hauled the little lady into his lap, stiffening and surprising himself. Once Sasha was plastered next to him in the middle seat, and Abraham had forced the passenger door shut, he pushed the little girl into Abraham’s arms.  
“What’s your name?” Sasha asked her, watching the small framed woman look at them all in turn.  
“Reagan, Raegan Harlan.” She answered, wondering lamely to herself if those sort of things, last names were important to anyone anymore.  
“Who were those men?” Abraham asked her.  
“Which ‘uns?” She replied. “The man and woman, who took your bike, they were good people, not Negan’s men. The men who fired all those shots, then left me in the woods, those are Negan’s and they ain’t something’ to be messed with. Don’t take that road, it’ll lead ya right back into their lands.” She nearly screamed the last part.  
Shocked, he, Daryl Dixon, listened to her, and moved the truck on down. “Where then, to head back up’wards DC?” He asked, watching her calm some.  
“Bout ten miles up.” She answered, gesturing with her still bound hands.  
“Ask her the questions?” Abraham looked at Daryl quizzically.  
“Nah,” He managed to snap, “Was unconscious when I threw her in the truck.” He looked out at the road, not paying any more attention, thinking back on what she had said about Negan, then suddenly, “Why did they throw ya away?”  
She paused, looking at them all. “Because Negan couldn’t get me pregnant.” She sounded so fucking small in that moment she embarrassed herself. “Didn’t bother to explain to Negan that I have a birth control implant in, hell, probably needs to come out bout now.” She grumbled looking at her one arm.  
“Looks like you're pretty lucky then.” Sasha suggested.  
“Nah, he wanted me dead anyway, too much of a fight in the bed.” Reagan managed to say the words before her brain could stop her.  
Abraham rubbed her back, in an odd display of affection, trying to make her feel better. “How many walkers’ you killed?”  
“Any that I crossed paths with.” She didn’t think about it long.  
“How many people?” Sasha asked.  
“Uhm, that one is a bit trickier. I killed three, no four, of Negan’s men. Before they decided to leave me for dead. I killed the two men who were with me, first, after my family died, when this started when I was 17, for raping me… Then Negan offered me protection… made me his wife, and one woman, I killed.” She had to think it over, the only death she admitted that made her grimace was the woman.  
“Why the woman?” Daryl could understand the men. Her abuse was written on her face.  
“She didn’t want to have his child.” She was barely above a whisper.  
“Was she pregnant?” Sasha was looking at her, her hands over Reagan's bound wrist.  
“She thought so… I broke her neck, then she turned anyway…”  
“It happens t’us no matt’r how we die.” Daryl answered after a pause.  
Silence engulfed the cab, and Abraham felt her nestle against him, her face pressed to his neck, and was asleep once more. “Guess she trust us.” Abraham whispered, careful not to make too much noise.  
“Nah, she just knows we ain't gonna hurt her.” Daryl said, “Not like she has been hurt.”  
He turned on the first road he reached after hitting the ten-mile mark, and wound familiar roads back towards Alexandria, he had to backtrack a little bit, but soon he made it. The wall was down, and he was momentarily panicked. Abraham was waking Raegan up, and cutting her binds, he handed her a machete. “We got to move, darlin’, find our family.” Abraham explained. They were climbing out of the truck. “Stick with Daryl.” He told her.  
She was a good listener, apparently. When Daryl became cornered, the crazy little woman slammed her body into the walker trying to eat him, and stabbed him in the temple. Daryl drug her up, and nodded his general appreciation to her. They moved, around the perimeter of Alexandria, killing all the walkers that were on the outskirts.  
Daryl had no clue where Rick would be, but his best bet was the armory, both he and Abraham knew that. Acting on it wouldn’t be so hard, either. This little nimble murderer trailing behind him was every bit as lethal as him, watching her kill did something to him. He had never forgiven himself for not making Beth more of a murder, more of a killer. After everything that had went down at Grady Memorial, and losing her all over again, forever, he had regretted it every day.  
But this woman, if he dared call her that, was the killing machine he had had in mind, and as much as he didn’t like it, she was sort of beautiful, sort of like an angel as she dropped their bodies, he could tell her one arm hurt, the right shoulder blade was contorted wrong, but she was working through the pain. Something he knew all too well. She was also barefoot. They made it to the armory as Abraham and Sasha did.  
Daryl recognized both relief and confusion as they slipped in the front door, as it was opened by Michonne. “Daryl, brother.” Rick clapped him on the shoulder, and moved to survey both Abraham and Sasha. His sight resting finally on Raegan and her small form.  
“We asked her the questions.” Sasha explained. Daryl was beside the girl again. A strong arm on her ribs, his other holding her wrist, he moved positioning himself better, then grabbed her dislodged shoulder, moving it up, pressing her wrist up and watching her wince in pain, they all heard the sickening snap of it finding the joint it belonged in.  
“Thanks.” She whimpered moving her arm correctly once more.  
“She’s a’ight.” Daryl told him, nodding his understanding at Rick’s worried glances. “So, plan?”  
“Well you guys fought your way in here, we were about to fight our way out.” Rick lamented, sounding lame. He knew that with four more fighters’ they didn’t have any higher of a chance.  
“Let’s take what we can, cover ourselves in more guts, and get to higher ground, wait for the herd to move on it's own, find Glenn…” Carol was suggesting something that made sense.  
“What about the rest of us?” Michonne asked.  
“’Ah can search for’uhm.”  
“I’ll help him. He saved me, I owe it to him.” Reagan offered.  
“I’ll help.” Sasha decided, looking at Abraham who nodded.  
They stumbled upon Aaron and Eric, who were eager to move and help, then they managed to find Tara, Rosita, Eugene, Morgan and Carol in one of the furthest out houses, they rushed their way out of the fray, pushing towards the guard tower where they can hear Maggie’s cries for help. Clearing the walkers out from beneath her, Reagan slamming the last one down. Maggie climbed down the ladder, straight into Daryl’s arms. He was awkwardly holding Maggie while she sobbed, when Reagan moved in a way he was not sure he understood, her body slamming forward, confused, and angry.  
She was on top of someone, and her yelp brought him back to reality. Maggie had exhausted herself, and crumpled in his arms. He had guessed she was pregnant but this only confirmed it. He looked to Abraham, and handed him the exhausted Maggie. Reagan was stabbing, over and over again, a man who had a W drawn on his forehead, Denise was clinging to Tara. “Reagan, let’s move.” He received no answer, he growled throwing the little form over his shoulder, and then they were running. All moving in the general direction that Daryl knew Rick was headed, away from Alexandria, away from the herd.  
Glenn and Enid were soon in the line, running with them, his eyes locked with Daryl who nodded that Maggie was fine, Glenn fell in step beside Abraham. Each stride seemed to weaken them, Alexandria like everywhere else was a sham, and now they were alone in a wilderness that they didn’t know very well.  
They made their way back to the start of the problem, to the quarry where the walkers had once been holed up. Daryl’s eyes locked with Rick, and soon everyone was in one of the RVs. “What the hell happened out there?” Rick asked. Daryl grunted and stumbled through the explanation of what happened when they made it to the town twenty miles out. Then Sasha and Abraham explained what they had done the night before, and how Abraham had found the rocket launchers, that he had refused completely to leave behind. Rick listened intently and looked over both Reagan's exhausted form and Maggie’s, “We won’t be able to leave until the morning.” Rick said after a spell.  
“Denise, check over everyone, make sure we can travel in the morning.”  
…  
“Her ribs, some are cracked, some are outright broken, her shoulder isn’t one hundred percent, but Daryl you did a good job putting it back in place, Maggie will be fine – just exhaustion, Glenn you sir could use some hydration, the rest of us, it’s the normal scrapes and bruises, Carol has a concussion.” Denise ran down the list of her patients.  
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dar,” He motioned for Daryl to step outside with him.  
Daryl followed him. “Rick.”  
“That girl, can she get us out of here?”  
“Maybe, those men, they hurt her, left her tied to a tree, she got us home, made me change routes to keep us from getting trapped, she might could lead us out of here, explain where his lands are.” Daryl looked like he wanted to believe what he was saying.  
“A’ight then.” Rick gruffed, “We ask her in the morning. See what she knows.” Then they re-entered the RV. “No point in watch tonight, the herd is still all around us. Let’s just stay quiet.”  
He took Judith from Carl, and nuzzled her to his frame. They settled in for the night. He knew they were not going to sleep any. Reagan woke up, abruptly, and sat almost straight up, wincing in pain, and letting a small string of curse words escape her lips. Rick was beside her in an instance. “Name is Reagan, right?”  
She nodded. Looking him over, this she guessed, was their leader. “You fuck us over in anyway, and I will kill you slowly. Ya got me?” Again she nodded, her eyes were not wide, she was not afraid, instead she seemed to accept what he was saying.  
“Won’t sell ya out, not to that monster.” She growled, she sounded as feral as Daryl did in the early days, he could see the same ‘fuck the world’ glint in her eyes that he had once saw in Daryl’s.  
“Why the freak out on the W fuck?” Daryl asked.  
“That was my brother.” She explained. “Ain’t one of them.” She added quickly when Morgan raised his stick threateningly in her direction. “Let me explain.” She stretched a little. “My mother and dad divorced when I was really young, had two older brother James – the W fuck, and Tyler. We were on our way to a safe zone near Roanoke, Virginia, when my mom was bitten. We were on our own, but lingered in the general Roanoke area until we met up with some men who called themselves the Claimers, apparently there are a lot of them all over, wandering America.”  
She paused, the look on Daryl and Rick’s faces let her know they had met some. “They offered us protection, if my brother would let them enjoy me. Tyler was completely against it, so was James, then. We killed them, and headed back this way. When we made it within twenty miles of DC Negan and his men, they took us in.” She let the idea settle.  
“Nice clean compound, guards, nice dresses, warm showers.” She shivered. “After two winters’ in hell, well, it was nice. Then one day, he called Tyler to him, and offered both him and James quite the deal if he could marry me. Apparently to my brothers the word marriage made it not rape.” She sighed.  
“So I was married up to Negan. But, damn, he couldn’t get me pregnant. And that made him mad. He made the deal with the Wolves sometime after we were married. He sent some of the younger men he had in camp to follow their leader, they abandon all will to live, just want to kill everything.” That sounded familiar to all those around, each had felt that at one point or another, except maybe Gabriel.  
“Tyler and James went with them.” She looked saddened by that. “Whatever gospel they follow James took to, like a fish, as ya know. Tyler not so well, he couldn’t bring himself to kill humans. So the other wolves, they killed him. Negan told me about it, then beat me until I thought I was dead. When I woke up I was tied up, and his men were shooting up the town, where the motorcycle and car were ambushed, guess I slipped back unconscious cause next thing I know, we were in the truck.”  
Rick nodded, “How old are ya?”  
“Maybe 20, 21. Not sure anymore.” She explained. “Age really doesn’t matter to your group; I can see that.” She chanced a glance around the faces. “Ya ain’t all family by blood, but watchin’ earlier it is clear ya love one another. Most of ya must a been together a long while.” She offered.  
“You could say that.” Glenn agreed. “Saw what ya did to get Maggie down, thanks Raegan. An extra body on our side in any fight is a blessing.”  
She hummed, relieved that they were appreciative of her being there. “Need shoes, for ya.” Daryl grunted, looking at her bare feet, he had not thought much about it when they were running and killing, but now he knew they were probably torn up and in a world of pain.  
“Ain’t nothin’” He heard her say, in the darkness, as Rick turned the flashlight off.  
…  
They have come a long way, at least in Daryl’s mind. Raegan has done exactly what is asked of her, leading them quite literally through the valley of the shadow of death, barefoot, and with an open smile. She guides them, as only she can, through winding Virginia forest, headed into and through Kentucky. She knows the path, he doesn’t ask how or why, she just does. He thinks back to when she mentioned her parents were divorced, maybe that’s how. He realizes, watching her down a walker, her long black hair tumbling down her shoulders, it’s messy, that he is fucked.  
There is something about her, something that he cannot shake, and he knows it is going to consume him, for all he is worth. The last time he felt anything at all like this, he was looking at Beth, in the parlor of the funeral home, letting her know she was the one who made him think there were good people left. He shakes his head, angry, pushing the thoughts away as fast as they come.  
No, he won’t let her be his undoing, he will do everything he can to stop that from happening. He won’t let her in, won’t allow the thought of her anywhere near him. He’s known about her existence maybe fifteen days, and she is already trying to destroy him and any idea he has about not thinking about Beth.  
Rick seems to be alright with the little woman, she is careful in her steps, a born woodsman, and Judith is fond of her already. Reagan is holding the little girl, humming to her as they walk along a back road, she points up ahead. “We are at my dad’s house. Well, used ta be his.” She grumbles. He can barely remember how long they have been walking, most likely the better part of the three weeks. Jessi, Denise, Sam, and Ron… they are not made for this, they were sheltered too long. Rick see’s it too, knows it is only a matter of time. They will keep Denise alive, for Tara, and because she is a doctor.  
Raegan is walking again, the gravel and grass under her bare feet, seeming to comfort her, to be close to some semblance of home. “This is… Harlan County, Kentucky.” She grumbles to no one in particular, the long winding drive leads them to a two story hunter’s cabin.  
They clear it quickly, moving through and realizing no one has been here in a very long time. The first floor of the house has a small dining room, a bathroom, a master bedroom, and a small room off the side of the master bedroom and a small room by the kitchen, the upstairs has four bedrooms, each small but enough to make them pleased with the fine, twin sets of bunkbeds in each, and the fifth room is more of an open balcony, there is also a small bathroom. There is no roof coverage on this square expansion, it overlooks the areas around the cabin, not that there is much there. The only thing in the kitchen that is useful to them, other than the canned meat and preservatives, the wood stove seems like it hasn’t been used in ages. There is wood stacked outside the front door, like someone had planned to come back long ago.  
“Can we stay here a while, Reagan?” Rick ask.  
“I guess, I know the area well enough, don’t know about who’s around these day’s – dead or alive.” She managed, stretching her body some.  
“Why so many rooms?” Daryl ask, as she is digging through the closet of one of the upstairs room, she doesn’t even mind him as she tugs pants over her hips and savagely slings her dress off, tugging a t-shirt on. She finds socks, a smidge too big for her, and howls in excitement when she finds her long forgotten ropers, her cowgirl boots. Steel toed!  
“Dad remarried. Other lady had kids like a rabbit.” He grunted, almost a laugh, the tips of his mouth upturned. “There will be alcohol in the back house, if ya wanna fetch it. Might fancy a drink tonight.” She was teasing him, but he recognized the old house, just outside the tree line and headed for it.  
Rick was dividing up rooms. “Eugene, Enid, Rosita, Tara, Denise – you five are in this one.” He motioned to the room at the top of the stairs, he was banking on Tara and Denise sleeping together. “Michonne, Carl, Judith, me, in the bigger of the rooms downstairs.” Then he pointed to the room Reagan had been digging through, “Glenn, Maggie this one, here.” He was moving, across the hall then. “Sam, Ron, Jessi, this one, Carol you can take that one too.” To the farthest room, next to the balcony room, “Abraham, Morgan, Sasha, Gabriel – in here.” He thumbed his beard. “Daryl, you and Reagan are down stairs with us in the small side room next to us.”  
After a pause, “Aaron and Eric, y’all will be in the other room downstairs.” With room assignments handed out, everyone started moving to make the rooms as comfortable as they could. “If ya need, you can break up the rooms better, up here if ya need too, but no one sleeps in a room alone, is that clear?” Everyone agrees.  
Reagan headed down to the room she has been assigned with Daryl. There are two twin beds in this room, instead of bunk beds, her heart hurts for a moment thinking about the three-year-old twins who once occupied this room. They were long gone, now, dead, more than likely. She sighed, looking around the house. They had all saw the photos of her, her family, all over the walls. She tips her head back, letting small tears form and fall.  
Daryl is the only one who sees her, and he doesn’t know what to do, suddenly he is reminded of Beth, and in the waves it hits him he is miserable. He slinks into the room, she looks up at him and motions for him to sit next to her. “Hey.” She breathes, “You lost someone too, huh?”  
He doesn’t speak, but he lets her hug him, something he had sworn he wouldn’t do. He lets her kiss his forehead, then she is gone. Out the door, looking for someone to talk to. He tosses himself back on the bed, and groans. Then he feels her presence more than sees it, she shuts to door, and is by his side. A mason jar of moonshine in hand.  
“Maggie isn’t drinking, because she is pregnant, so she is watching Judith. Rick is boarding up the windows and locking the door hatches, and it’s about to be night time, so he says we can drink.” He looks up at her, his eyes narrowed. “Come on, Dixon, yer a redneck too, ya know what this is.”  
He nods then takes the mason jar, setting up. He rubs the glass between his hands, sending a last lingering thought towards the part of his mind that is haunted by Beth, before he pops the top off and takes a long swallow.  
Soon they are all drinking, Maggie giggles as she watches them. Even Reagan is enjoyable, she and Daryl were in some sort of unspoken competition about hunting, both telling lengthy stories that more often than not end in the main character getting injured. Then Rick and Abraham start in with their war stories, soon everyone including Enid and Carl were sufficiently smashed, minus Maggie and Judith of course. Daryl remembered the last time most of them were safely drunk, at the CDC in Atlanta, he doesn’t bring that up though, it would remind Carol of Sophia.  
He realized that everyone had tapered off to bed, except he and Reagan they are sitting across from one another, Maggie had a sleeping Judith in her arms, and had kissed his forehead goodnight, nodded goodnight to Reagan and is up the stairs before he could stop her. Reagan shot him a unique smile, one he had not caught her give anyone else. “Scared of me?” It is almost a growl.  
“Ain’t scared of some ninety-pound lightweight.” He managed to choke out, irritated.  
“Yeah, you are, I remind you of someone, in some way, and you can’t stand it.” She is standing then.  
“Beth.” He didn’t mean to say it, but it slipped from his lips.  
“Maggie’s sister?” She was curious, she made her way towards him.  
“Yea.” She had heard the story, they caught her up with all the had been through, for the most part. Settling in on her, as a family member, anyone who led them from danger honestly was ok in their books.  
“I’m sorry.” She is soft as she spoke, running a hand over his jawline, her fingers ghosting his skin and making goosebumps rise. “I’m sorry she is not here.” With that she is gone, and he looks after her, confused, irritated, and to his embarrassment slightly enthralled, heat sinking lower in his body than it should. He throws himself into the bed she is not in, and sleep overtakes him, he doesn’t even bother with his boots.  
Suddenly he is walking, it is the corridors of Grady Memorial Hospital, each step he takes seems to draw him closer to growling and snarling walkers but he cannot turn away, no he is looking for her, he is calling out her name, BETH, he nearly screams until he is hoarse, his whole body panicked and rushing. Then she is before him, but it isn’t her, not really. The gunshot wound damaging her face, and still she is a walker, crawling at him, and he cannot manage to tear away from her, or kill her. He is screaming then, thrashing.  
“DARYL!” She has his shoulder, and is shaking him, “Hey.” His eyes snap open, alcohol still clouding his brain, her black hair tickling his face and neck. “You were screaming, I don’t think everyone woke up, but several folks-“ She was cut off, Daryl’s drunken self-dragging her into his bed. His arms tightened around her body, crushing her to him, and his face buried in her hair.  
Rick is looking at her then, through the open doorway, her face is contorted somewhere between confused and afraid. They lock eyes, briefly, and Rick nods at her, accepting that she cannot move at this moment, and that Rick doesn’t want her to, she settles, taking deep breaths. Willing herself not to panic, not to freak out and wake him. He had taken more watches on their way from Alexandria than everyone else, and he had to be exhausted.  
The funeral home is right in front of them. “This is a serious piggyback.” He jokes, they make their way into the house, and eat. Then he looks away from her briefly, when his eyes return to her she is mangled, the bullet hole in her face, her eyes dead. She is just standing there, watching him. “You let them take me. You made me this way.” She mocks him. He tries hard, standing away moving away, but suddenly arms snake around him, and he is being pulled into the hungry mouths of walkers, all the while screaming “BETH, NO.”  
“DARYL” This time she shakes him all the way awake. His body is mostly on top of hers, and the sun is starting to rise, he has his hands on her throat, crushing down on her windpipe, then he realizes who she is, he recoils from her and is gone before she can say anything more. Rick is out the door after him.  
“Daryl, wait up!” Rick manages to catch the hunter at the tree line.  
“Why was she in my bed?” Daryl snarls out.  
“Nightmares, Daryl, your nightmares are back, and I told her to.” Rick places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Daryl, she isn’t Beth, and what happened with Beth, that isn’t your fault, no one blames you.”  
Daryl snarls at him, but makes no move to head into the woods, instead he looks at the house. “She reminds me of what ‘ah shoulda made Bethy in’ta.”  
Rick doesn’t look shocked or surprised, which makes Daryl feel even worse. “Like I said, Daryl, you taught Beth all you could in the time you had, you taught her to be strong, or she would not have lasted as long as she did at Grady – as long as she needed for us to get her body.”  
Daryl shuffles his feet, he can feel the tears forming in his eyes, he jerks away from Rick, and back into the house. Reagan is in the room still, standing, but almost rooted. Daryl grabbed her, forcefully, jerking her by her hair, and hugging her to him. She yelped at first, then calmed herself, feeling his tears as they dropped on to her cheek, hair, and shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him. He shook, crying hard for Beth, Sophia, and Merle. Anyone who he had opened his heart to in anyway, gone.  
Rick closed the door, knowing Daryl wouldn’t want anyone else seeing him vulnerable. He and the others ate a nice breakfast, then he started working out who would be on guard and when, and how long they needed to wait for the next run. Both Enid and Carl looked miserable, stretched out on the couch, clearly hungover and mildly intoxicated still from the night before.  
Daryl could hear the happenings outside of the door, somehow she had coaxed him once more into laying down, and his head was pressed against her chest, her heart beat in his ear, her hands brushing over his hair, calming him, or at least doing her best. He hadn’t meant to cry, for a brief moment he had imagined her as Beth, but that had not lasted long, she was a polar different girl, and her body just didn’t feel right. She had muscle, and a little bit of weight on her, she was shorter than Beth who had come to his shoulder, Reagan barely came to his chest.  
He grunted, feeling like he had left himself open to her. “Daryl, you remind me of someone too.” It was a soft whisper, and he felt her tears, then, stinging her face. “I was engaged, when it started, he was here in Harlan, helping my dad with this retreat, when the dead started wakin back up.” She was whispering. “He’s dead now. They all are. Everyone I ever loved, before. I would love these people, if I am alive for a while.”  
He felt something stir in the pit of his chest, and he choked back another sob. “I loved her.” He had never admitted that to anyone, not even Rick. “’Minded me about good people. She looked at me, like I mattered.” He was quiet again.  
“You haven’t grieved her, have you?” But she knew the answer, just like he did. Beth haunted him, and she did it daily, because he had not been able to let her go. “Let her go, Daryl. I had to let Mason go, you can’t wait for an angel, maybe in the end she will be the one to greet you when it happens, but you're alive now.” She stilled after that and he thought about it.  
How strange it was, an almost stranger could see the pain that he had tried so hard to hide from those he loved. A girl, who until three weeks ago, he had no clue existed, a girl who he had wanted desperately to ignore, to shut out, to avoid. Now he was sobbing into her body, clinging to her, letting all the things he had trapped in his mind come out.  
He fell back asleep at some point. Reagan didn’t move, she thought back to how Negan’s oldest, first wife, had held her much like this the night she was taken by Negan. How she had confronted the girl about who she lost, and when she confessed Mason, she realized she had to let him go, so she could survive in this world. Setting Mason’s memory free had set her free.  
…  
“There is a Piggly-Wiggly up ahead.” She was pointing them to the left. They had not talked about the day after the drinking, she doubted very seriously they ever would, but he watched her closely, and she could feel his gaze on her every single time.  
Flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, and short shorts, the blue jeans she had found the other day, they had had to cut strips off of them, to mend Judith’s baby blanket, everyone gave something for it. Her cowboy boots, softly clinking as she led them towards the store. He watched her body, the way she moved, careful, and firm, the way her thigh muscles stretched, and then she had stopped. He almost walked into her. Damn.  
She had stopped short, and he had half a mind to tell her to move her little princess ass out of the way. But he checked her gaze. There in front of them, three lone walkers. One of which she couldn’t tear her eyes from. He understood instantly, Mason, her love. He couldn’t stop himself, he gently touched her elbow, he was offering her comfort, she turned sharply into his waiting arms, and once her face was pressed into his chest, he held her head still, hand in her hair, with his other arm he raised the bow, and he shot a bolt into the walker’s head.  
Sasha and Tara took out the other two. He thrust the crossbow at Tara, who took it like it was a baby, cradling it to her. Then he tightened his grip on Reagan, slipping his other arm around her. He just let her stand there, sobbing for a moment. “We can go back for today.” He whispered in her hair, afraid to move.  
“No.” She managed to choke out, then she was detangling herself from him, and he was at a loss. Her eyes were still teary, but there was something else there, something like resignation. He took his crossbow back from Tara and they moved forward again. She stepped over Mason’s boy, and whatever moment had occurred between her and Daryl, had for now passed.  
Both Tara and Sasha made a mental note to never talk about it. EVER. They moved silently through the store, loading up on everything that was canned. “Found some coke!” Tara squealed. The extra noise caught the attention of a walker, that Reagan had been hoping to make her way around, it slammed her, dragging her down, she could not stop the scream that rippled from her body, her face contorting, and her blade just out of reach. Daryl was there in an instant, sinking his knife into the walker’s skull and dragging her up. He set her on the counter and was checking her for wounds, his hands running over her, wherever he saw blood. Finding no actual wounds, he sighed.  
She looked pissed, at something, then he realized he still had a death grip on one of her wrist, and his other hand was on her knee. “Sorry.” He managed to push the word out, she hopped off the counter, pushing his body back away from her, with her own body. She was away from him then, looking out the front door.  
They walked home in silence, weighed down by their packs, and pulling a cart home full of Judith related things and some other useful junk they had managed to find. Tara and Sasha managed the buggy, between them, while both Daryl and Reagan worked to kill any walkers that came by. He watched her, when he wasn’t killing his own, she moved gracefully, her whole body a weapon. He rationalized that anyone could be taken by surprise, hell there were times when he was.  
….  
She had stopped sleeping in her bed, he didn’t know when exactly it happened. She would be in her bed when he tumbled in, but at the first rays of sunlight brushed across his face, she was there, tucked under his arm, fast asleep against him, her black hair usually spilling over his chest. This morning, however, he woke to an empty bed. His crossbow was also gone. Anger seemed to seep from him when Rick met him at the door. “She needed it to make the right kind of bolts.”  
Daryl paused. “Bolts?”  
“Yeah, she is out fletching them, in the yard.” Abraham responded.  
“Wanted to do something nice for you.” Sasha said, carefully.  
“For what you did for Mason.” Tara was even, calm with him. That had been well over a week ago.  
They hadn’t spoken since then. She was just in his bed, under his arm, hovering near him. He didn’t know anything about her. She didn’t know anything about him.  
“Go talk to her?” Rick suggested.  
Daryl shot him a surly look but walked out to the back, anyway. Sure enough, her tanned legs stretched out almost awkwardly around the fletching device her dad had. Her flannel shirt spread out beside her, with new bolts laid on it, her black tank top contrasting nicely with her skin. He sank down beside her, watching carefully. “Reagan?”  
She grunted, working hard with her hands. “Reagan.” He was a little firmer with it this time.  
She looked up at him. “Daryl.”  
“I uh,” He could see she was puzzled.  
“You uh, what?”  
“Thank you.” It stumbled out, almost too quick to interpret what was actually said.  
“For?” She asked.  
“Nightmares.” He offered.  
“Uhhu.” She breathed returning to her work.  
“Hey, girl.” He was trying to catch her attention once more.  
“Yes.” She almost hissed.  
“About Mason…” His voice trailed off.  
“You did right, I thank you.” She huffed it out.  
“Ain’t what I was about to say.” Daryl snapped. He was growing irritated, he grabbed her hands up forcing her to look at him. “Girl, we have both been through a lot, a’ight, let’s cut the shit.”  
She looked taken aback. “What do you want?” It was even, level, like he had said to Beth once before.  
“Think we could manage to be friends, and ya still sleep next ta’ me?” Daryl sounded like a child.  
“If I weren’t yer friend, ya think I would be out here fletchin’ ya some damn arrows?” Her southern twang seeping through her calm.  
“Ain’t talked ta’ me.” Daryl argued.  
“Ya ain’t talked to me.” She snapped back.  
“I ain’t a talker.” He growled.  
“Maybe I ain’t either.” She managed to snarl.  
“Ya talk to them,” he tilted his head back towards the house.  
“They talk ta me first.”  
“Oh.” Daryl realized it was a pretty lame response.  
“Yeah.” She snapped.  
“Ya mad at me?” He asked kinda sheepishly.  
“For what? Puttin my walker boyfriend down or savin’ me in the store?”  
“Either?”  
“Nah, ain’t mad at’chya.” She responded.  
“Then, tell me about ya.” Daryl was a good listener. He wondered if she would see that. He paled and then blushed when he realized he still had her hands. She was chewing on one of her thumbs, his hand dangerously close to her mouth.  
“A’ight, what do ya wanna know?” She asked, letting him continue to hold her hands.  
“How did yew and Mason meet?”  
“I was in third grade; he was in fifth. Dad always joked I liked uhm older.” She blushed, a silent joke within herself.  
“What did ya wanna be when ya grew up?”  
“I…” She paused. “Well, dun laugh.” She grumbled, “Wanted to be bar hand, serve drinks.”  
“Ain’t too high on standards huh?” He asked, interested.  
“Nah, knew it would piss muh par’nt’s off.” She grunted as she went back to work fletching.  
“Lil Rebel?” He was genuinely enjoying not thinking about anything but what she was saying.  
“What can I say, Daryl,” She grunted, “Dad was a preacher, had to do something.”  
He chuckled, “That where ya got them tattoos?”  
“My dad never saw uhm, but yea, your turn to answer my questions.” She stopped work completely and looked at him. “What did you do before the turn?”  
“Followed Merle ‘round.”  
“Your brother? Rick told me about him.”  
“Yea, miss him some, but not ‘nough to wish him back.” Daryl responded.  
“Ah, what did you wanna be when you grew up?”  
He realized it was a serious question. “I wanted to be free.”  
…  
Runs now were exclusively the two of them, so was hunting. Rick was not sure exactly when the change happened, but it did. Daryl preferred the little girl flanking him, to Abraham or louder inhabitants in the woods. Today, though, Rick was pacing. They were supposed to be back the previous night, and late check-in’s always meant trouble. Rick, seriously, hated being right ninety percent of the time.  
He was somewhere between shocked and concerned when he saw Reagan shouldering Daryl’s form, almost dragging him, both covered in blood. She still somehow had her pack on, Rick surged forward to help her, scooping Daryl off his feet much to the hunter’s displeasure, and rushing into the house. Reagan slumped forward, but Abraham was there, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her in.  
YESTERDAY  
They had started making their way further away from her father’s house, and on the outskirts of Harlan they found a nice minimally looted IGA with only four walkers in it! A complete steal! They were loading up on things, carefully tucking them into the trunk of the car they had found on their way out here, when Daryl froze. He heard the gun cock before he saw anyone, and as he turned, there Reagan was on her knees, her hand up, and a leather clad man behind her, gun at her head.  
In all the moments of his life, Daryl wished now more than ever he had told Rick the complete truth. “Baby brother.” The words made his stomach turn. Daryl had watched Merle take out the governor’s men, but when Merle was injured, Daryl had cleaned him up, patched him up and sent him away with Martinez, not considering the fact that he would ever see Merle alive again. Funny how these moment’s sneak up on you.  
“She’s mine.” Daryl motioned towards Reagan. “Don’t touch her.”  
“Always chasing jailbait, baby brother.” He heard Merle mock him.  
“Ya heard him, ‘ah am claimed.” Reagan hissed.  
“Yeah, yea.” Merle yanked her up forcefully by her hair, and shoved her towards Daryl. “Been lookin’ for ya, Darlena. Following yer tracks for a long time, lost uhm over the winter, but here ya are. Pickin’ up supplies for yer family, huh?”  
“They are way out, we walked almost all day to come here.” Daryl responded, his eyes never leaving Merle.  
“That so.” Merle grunted, “Tracks all over, but see ya loading up the car, let’s me know Officer Friendly must be ‘round, he don’t let his doggy off the leash often, least not with just one family member.” Merle snapped.  
“Listen.” Reagan’s voice low, and both men pause what they are doing. “Walkers.”  
“Gotta move now.” Merle still had her by the hair and forced her in front of him, the knife on his metal cased arm at her throat. “Come on brother, we got places to go, and I ain’t lettin ya off easy.”  
Daryl and Reagan both had been around claimers before, but this shit, was rough. Merle was their leader, and as they reached the makeshift camp everyone shuffled around, five men, looking to him like he was God. “This here is my brother, and his bitch. They are with us now.” Merle told them, nudging both Reagan and Daryl into the simple brick house.  
“Can we play with yer toy?” One of the younger one’s asked, circling Reagan, his eyes undressing her.  
“No.” Daryl snapped forcefully, jerking her back towards him. “Mine.”  
Reagan was mildly relieved that Daryl had declared her his, but, this was going to bring a new problem. “Prove it, baby brother, ain’t never seen you inclined to keep a bitch.” Merle’s voice seriously irritated her, between his words and the way Merle was picking her apart with her eyes, she was starting to worry.  
If the words surprised Daryl he didn’t let it show, when he drug her to him, and her hands pressed against his chest, he whispered the smallest “Sorry” against her lips, before knotting his hand in her hair and smashing his mouth onto hers, to his surprise she kissed back, and just as forcefully. Damnit, he was fucked. She was not breakable as he had imagined Beth being, she was fucking solid, and pressed against him, and damn he was fucked.  
She heard Merle hoot and holler behind them, “Darlenna as nice as that is, I wanna see you fuck her.”  
Daryl ripped her head away from his, eyes narrowed. “Always were a sick fuck.”  
She was against him again, her mouth on his neck, breathing softly. “No way around it, not now.” He heard her mumble the words into his ear, before she returned to his neck, he had not realized how low he had stooped to kiss her, but he could see now, as her body moved against his, straightening up was the way to go. He stood, his hand possessively on the back of her neck, pressing her to him, if she was afraid he couldn’t tell.  
“Darlennnnna, ain’t got all day.” Merle snapped.  
“Not in the open, don’t wanna help ya fuckers get off. The car, and ya can watch from outside.” Daryl snarled, then took off, pressing her into the back seat. He slammed the doors, and locked them.  
“Relax.” She whispered, “Close your eyes.” He numbly did as instructed. Today was one of those days, where she abandoned pants and had settled on a dress, it was hot in the summer and she had enough to deal with without bringing on a heat stroke. She shoved him into the middle of the back seat, straddling him.  
Oh, he was beyond fucked, and he knew it. There was no way to not do this, and as much as he liked her, he had been able to keep her at arm’s bay, never letting her close enough, but now with the claimers watching, she was pressing open mouthed kisses on his neck, letting her hands run up his shirt. He kept his eyes shut, but rubbed over her shoulders, and down her arms, it was gentle.  
She nipped him harder than he expected, and his eyes shot open, he wasn’t hard enough yet, he realized, and she needed a rise out of him for this to work. He grabbed her, hard by her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck and the top of her chest, before he hungrily started kissing, his mind registered her hands at his belt buckle, and Merle humming something outside the car.  
She was working his pants down, careful not to expose him in any way, knowing how he hated to be vulnerable, as he grazed his hands over her butt, his mouth still on the hollow of her neck, moving across to her collarbone, and sinking his teeth in every once in awhile. Grabbing two fist full of her ass, he realized she didn’t have underwear on, he was now going to be fucked, literally and figuratively. Damn woman was going to be his undoing. She was moving them again, making him shift down, and her hips bucked up.  
She recaptured his lips, stroking his swollen member between them, his head slipping against her wetness, she was wet, damn he grunted, she rocked her hips again, and he yelped, bucking forward. The movement made her moan, and he realized, somewhat amused, that he had pushed into her, and was comfortably balls deep. She was adjusting, the slight hiss that slipped from her lips let him know that he was different in width or length then Negan, before he could account for what she was doing, her hands were cupping his face, kissing him, it was tender, “Go on, I know I can’t move the way you need, not in here.” It was a whisper, it was approval. She was going to kill him.  
He nodded against her, grabbing her hips, his hands slipping under her dress, hard enough that she would bruise, at this point, he wanted to guarantee this memory stuck, then he forced her up, wiggling himself into a more comfortable position, he brought her down, they found a rhythm together, it was hot in the car, and sweat was clinging to both of them.  
Merle was banging loudly on the car, all the claimers were, but fuck if the was the only time Daryl was experiencing anything like this since the turn he was going to enjoy this. Her hands were clamped on his shoulders, and she was moaning, and she was working her hips to help him get deeper. He felt it then, somewhere between the intoxicating noises she made and her damn hips grinding, he lost it, his balls clenched, hard and he spilled into her, to his relief she seemed to be close, he ground her into him a couple more times, to be sure, then felt the clinching of her body around him, and she screamed, god, he made her scream, and fuck, it was his name. “DARYL!”  
She was slumped against him, panting, as he carefully slipped out of her, and maneuvered his pants back on he dug his red rag out of his pocket and handed it to her. Another woman might have turned away the grimy thing but no way was she walking out there and letting both their cum run down her legs. She cleaned herself as modestly as she could, then they slipped out of the car, Daryl in front of her, her body pressed to the back of him, “Told ya,” He breathed to Merle, “This here girl is mine.”  
“Darlenna ain’t never seen you let one kiss you on the mouth before.” Merle was sizing her up.  
“She taste like honey I bet.” One of the other claimers was inching towards her.  
“Bet both sets of lips taste like heaven.”  
Suddenly her body was plastered to the car, and Daryl’s was over hers. “Told ya fuckers she is mine, and I protect what is mine.”  
For now they seemed to accept that. They all settled into sleep, and Daryl watched Reagan carefully, she slipped her boots off and curled up to him just like if they were home. “What are we doing?”  
Damn woman was right in his ear. “Dunno.” He breathed, he didn’t know if Merle was asleep or not.  
“I say we kill them, not Merle, but the others.” She was soft, but her breath on his neck and in his ear was going to murder him more than the memory of the car.  
“Have ta him to.” He said after a while.  
When everyone’s breathing was even, he whispered, “Get to the ones close to us, one at a time, and knife them in the eye, ok?” He felt her nod. He didn’t hear the one to their left when she moved, the one on her right, he let out the smallest of noises, then she was moving. The twins, who seemed the fondest of Merle were asleep ridiculously close together, and killing one would no doubt wake the other, so she carefully slipped the blade into the one’s temple, as she straddled the other, he woke with a start but she smiled down at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips, he moved to deepen the kiss, then she worked the blade into his temple, much like his brothers.  
Merle was awake, and jerked her violently backwards, she felt something cold, then realized he was cutting her, the blade running from one side of her collar bone to the other, Daryl tried to intervene and soon he and Merle were fighting, the sun was starting to come up, and she realized she had missed one of the claimers when something heavy landed in her ribs. His fist made her lose her breathe for a moment, she groaned, but then she was fighting against him. When he tried to hold her to him, she lunged forward, sinking her mouth onto his neck, and biting with all she had, when he dropped her she spat out the chunk of flesh and stabbed him in the ear.  
Looking around she realized what the loud noise she had heard moments before was, right as the fifth claimer punched her, Merle had shot Daryl in the chest. Daryl, however, had wrestled the gun away and was sprawled out on the floor, barrel pointed up at Merle’s head. The second gunshot seemed to rattle her brain. Merle fell. She grunted, realizing all the work Denise had put into her rib cage was gone, she stooped down, and pulled Daryl up as gently as she could, they had to move.  
The car was a no go, the claimers had done something that she could not un-do to the engine, so they had to make their way on foot, she hoped silently the noise from all the early morning commotion in the brick house, would draw the walkers to it instead of bring them towards her and Daryl. She couldn’t stop her own bleeding or his, she felt the blood seeping through her dress, pooling down her dress.  
Daryl would have to mention to Rick, that now in his lifetime he had seen two claimers taken out by their jugulars being ripped out by human mouth. Something he had never ever wanted to see again, once was enough. His vision was foggy. He wondered if he was alive or dead, if dead was it, then at least he had had some fun before death. Rick was there, he wondered if he was dreaming, then he was encircled in darkness.  
…  
Denise had stripped her down, Reagan realized, and now she was almost completely naked while Rick interrogated her, she had underwear slipped on and a bra. “What happened?” Rick was watching Denise stitch Reagan up.  
“Think he ought to tell ya when he wakes up, Rick.”  
“Why?”  
“His business, not mine.” Reagan managed, she was exhausted.  
“The fuck does that mean?” Rick snapped. Daryl moaned on the bed, breathing deeply and evenly. “At least what are the bruises on your hips from.”  
“Daryl.” It was a whisper. Rick stooped to examine her hips, he brought his hands up, to cover the bruises with his own, trying to figure out what had led to them. When his eyes widened, she blushed. “They made us.”  
Rick watched her, “They made you, what exactly?”  
“Fuck.” Daryl snapped, no one had noticed he was awake.  
“How does someone make you have sex?” Rick was so irritated with this.  
“Merle can.” Daryl managed.  
“Denise, out.” Rick ordered, the scared woman moved the fastest they had seen her. “You said you killed Merle.” Rick’s face was inches from his, his hand dangerously close to Daryl’s gunshot wound.  
“I said Merle was dying when ‘ah found him, and ‘ah left him that way.” Daryl grumbled.  
“Alright ya got me there, ya did say that.” Rick looked at Reagan. “Walk me through what happened.”  
“Is that a’ight?” She asked Daryl, who nodded.  
“A’igth, we were raiding the IGA, and doing fairly well, when a man knocked me to my knees, and pointed a gun at my head. Happened ta be that that man was Merle Dixon.” Reagan started. “He drug us back to their hideout. Daryl claimed me, so that they wouldn’t touch me. Merle and the others were clearly sizin up what they wanted ta do with me.” She paused, Daryl was passed back out. “Merle started in on him, and well, the end result was…” She gestured to hip bones, where a purple hue was forming, and small little arcs were scabbing over, like Daryl had dug his fingertips in deep enough to make her bleed.  
“That, is from sex?” Rick asked, once more looking at the bruises. Rick could understand the force behind them, he witnessed women with similar bruises. He knew exactly how hard Daryl had had to be holding her.  
She must have known what he was thinking. “It ain’t rape, Rick. If anyone was taken advantage of, it was Daryl, I started it.” She explained, “I took control. I think part of these bruises are from him trying to not freak out.”  
“Do they hurt?”  
“Seriously, yes, but not too bad.” Reagan shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.  
“Continue on.”  
“Told her to kill uhm,” Daryl whispered. Reagan looked at Daryl stretched out on the bed.  
“He told me to get the ones closest to us, knife uhm in the eye. And I did, all but Merle and one other. The other one, he punched me in the ribs, recracked them.” She motioned for Rick to look at her side, he had noticed the blackish hue on her side, but had momentarily gotten stuck on the idea of Daryl having sex. It was foreign.  
“Merle shot me.” Daryl gruffed, he never opened his eyes. “Then he dropped the gun.”  
“Merle seemed shocked at what he had done. And looked sorry.” Reagan explained. “Daryl musta picked up the gun, because as I killed the man who was punching me, the second shot rattled off and Merle was dead.”  
Rick nodded, swallowing. “It’s done now.” He patted her knee, and brushed Daryl’s shoulder, noticing him recoil slightly. After he was gone, Reagan eased herself from the counter, where they had patched her up, and slipped over to him.  
“Daryl.” She was so quiet, he grunted, she slipped into the bed beside him, her head on his chest. “Don’t shut me out.”  
He understood why she said it, hell he already had thought about how he was going to deal with it. Sex is complicated if you anticipate seeing the person again, and he had successfully made it into uncharted territory. Daryl felt afraid, almost as scared as when he had discovered Rick Grimes had left his brother on that Atlanta rooftop. He shivered when her hair tickled his chest, and closed his eyes. “I ain’t.”  
…  
He didn’t know how long he had been asleep. When he woke he could see Reagan’s back. She had a t-shirt on and those damn shorts, but she was barefoot. “Girl.” He rasped, she turned and smiled at him. She ducked down, and slipped her boots on, her eyes never leaving his face.  
“Afternoon, sunshine.” She hovered, by his bedside unsure what to do.  
“How long ‘ah been out?”  
“Two days, we are moving out today, they are loading everything up.” She told him, smiling somewhat warmly. She gently brushed the side of his face, and his lips upturned slightly. “’Mone.” She whispered, helping him sit up, then helping him work the simple sleeveless button up shirt on, “Carol cut the sleeves out of this one for you.” She buttoned each button for him, his eyes watching her carefully.  
“’Mere.” He growled at her as she started to move away. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to touch her, kiss her. He tentatively placed a hand on the back of her neck. She raised her eyebrows, somewhere between amused and confused. He pulled her towards him gently. A smile played on her lips, as she pressed a small kiss on his. He returned the kiss, easy, gentle. She pulled back after a moment, then smiled again. “I ain’t sayin we in love, just wanna kiss ya every now’an’again.” She nodded, moving to his side, wrapping her arms around his center, he pushed off the bed, shakily standing, his chest hurt, and he wheezed sharply.  
“Dar,” Rick was calling to them as they were walking. “Gonna put you and Reagan in the truck, the back tailgate has supplies, Glenn and Maggie are going to ride in the back.”  
Reagan nodded appreciatively as Rick shouldered Daryl’s weight and she climbed into the cab. Rick helped Daryl into the passenger seat, he grunted. “You can lay down, won’t no one judge you.” He heard Maggie say.  
“Fuck off.” Daryl snapped through gritted teeth, he rested his head in Reagan’s lap, tucking his legs awkwardly into the cab before Rick shut the door.  
“Whatever, Dixon.” He heard Maggie banter back.  
“Here, pain pills.” Reagan pressed them to his mouth, he gladly accepted and swallowed them dry. He looked up at her, and blushed a little when she brushed his hair out of his face. “Nah, we ain’t in love. Just on the verge.” He heard her whisper it to him, he was asleep before he knew what hit him.  
She started the truck, and put it in gear, following behind Rick and the others. There were two SUVS in front of her, a Hummer behind, and a scraggly looking compact that Carol had said was just like one she had in a past life. They had taken everything they could from the house, and everything they had managed to salvage from the supply run Daryl and Reagan had attempted, Rick went, to ensure Merle Dixon was really dead. He was glad he did instead of waiting for Daryl to do it, because Merle had turned, and Rick enjoyed killing him.  
They drove until almost sunset. Rick turned the first SUV into a hotel/motel, the sign said no vacancies. Reagan humphed. “Maggie, Glenn, help clear, I’ll wake him.” She rubbed the side of Daryl’s face, he groaned. “Come on.” She urged him.  
She slipped out of the truck, and made her way around to the passenger side, where she drug his body upright, as he groaned. Daryl was not sure he had ever felt this horrible in his life, between Reagan and Michonne the managed to maneuver him into the cleared room.  
He dropped into the bed, and she was instantly beside him, his head nested on her stomach, and she rested on her elbows. Daryl was damned to this, fucked so completely. He would be lost without her. He shivered, letting his eyes close once more.


End file.
